


Storm

by anniespinkhouse



Series: Mine verse [5]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU, Bondage, D/s themes, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Humiliation, Institutionalized slavery, Knotting, M/M, dark!fic, dub con/non con, het (sort of), pet traits, s/m themes, slave!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 08:05:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniespinkhouse/pseuds/anniespinkhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alpha!Master!Jensen/Human!Slave!Jared. Sometimes, to reach the calm you have to travel through the storm.<br/>This is a future!fic verse where humans are kept as slaves by a genetically engineered super-race (Alphas). It may be easier to understand with knowledge of the first four stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm

**Author's Note:**

> The au verse of 'Mine' is dark and there are warnings/tags. Please click back now if any offend.
> 
> Betas: Thanks to meus_venator and sylsdarkplace for making this better. All mistakes remain my own.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is fiction, pure fantasy folks. Nobody here belongs to me and they’re not likely to get in my van for candy any time soon.
> 
> Banner: The pretty, pretty banner has been made by meus_venator. There is more in the art post here - http://meus-venator.livejournal.com/11486.html Go tell her how wonderful it is!
> 
> AN: For this instalment it might be useful for me to give a reminder that in Jared’s world discipline is routine beating/flogging and any D/s and s/m task his Master may assign his slave/pet to satisfy his sadistic and dominant alpha personality. A show pet is trained to welcome it, excels in it’s tolerance of pain, and is proud of its service. Punishment is only given as a result of disobedience and is especially shameful for a pet.

 

Jared wasn't sure what time it was, but the moon had started out as a huge ball on the horizon and now it rode high, small in the vast sky. It gave a dull shine that flickered as clouds gathered and scudded below it. He let a tear slide down his cheek and it mingled with the rainwater that dripped from his sodden hair and lashed in on the harsh wind. He wanted to shake the water-heavy hair from his face, maybe shift a little on the gravel that gouged holes into his knees, but chains fixed him securely.

He only had one purpose, and he had failed. He had made his master unhappy, been the cause of his boiling rage. The punishment was merited, and he knew he should bear it with greater courage.

Vehicle lights shone briefly through the blackness of the night and strange noises made him startle and shudder. Jared used to be a show pet – a prize kept confined to the house or safely caged in transit, or in a show hall. There were brief playtimes in grassy gardens, several since being owned by Master Jensen, but never alone. Not ever. He had never been out at night, and he wasn’t sure what creatures roamed to prey on abandoned slaves. He wondered what part of him they would feast on first, how long it would take. Snot drained from his nose, and he sniffed. Shivers wracked his cold, wet and exhausted body, but he didn’t dare close his eyes for the fear of what lurked in the night. A storm was approaching and trees bent and swayed. A black shape stretched and chased towards him, and he whined in horror, behind the ball gag in his mouth, but it passed over him without a touch, just the shadow of an elm tree, struggling in the wind.

The sign dangling from a loop around his neck rattled against his chilled bare skin, and Jared was forced to acknowledge its presence once more. He broke into a sob and more tears slid down his cheek.

Recently he had started to wonder if this was what happened when pets got old. Maybe they went wrong and couldn't be fixed, like vehicles, but the reasons weren't important, only the result. This was his own fault and it wasn't the first time he had deserved Jensen’s punishment. What was different this time, was that he didn't think he could take it. Being ‘put-out’ was a fate that had been whispered among pets all his life, but he had never imagined that he would earn such a thing. “A brat acting-out,” is how Master Jensen had described him after the first and second incident. This time was different. This time, he was a “Manipulative, thieving shit,” and he’d pushed Master Jensen beyond all patience. This punishment was different, and he didn't think he was supposed to live through it, or that his Master would care when his body was gathered from the sharp stones for disposal.

Something tickled his leg as it crawled over his skin. Jared shook with the effort to dislodge it, but he was stuck in position, helpless. It trailed all the way up to the warmth of his balls and he gulped ragged breaths around the gag in his mouth.

Jared wasn’t sure how his rebellion had started, or even why. He wanted to make Jensen happy, was proud of the moments when he made him smile, or eased his natural alpha tension, and he knew the rules, even the ones that were unique to Jensen’s ownership. He was fortunate to belong to any household at his age, and Master Jensen cared well for him. His daily discipline was minimal, far less than he was used to and never more than he could bear. Master had even let him choose two items from the toy cupboard which would never be used. Jared had requested that the rubber suit and eyeless hood be removed, and his choice had been honored. Jared’s breath hitched and he gave a strangled sob as he realized that even now, when Master Jensen had every reason to torture him with those items, he didn’t. 

A drawn out whistle startled him as air squeezed through the ornate brickwork of the house behind him. Jared’s nails dug into his palm, and his eyes became rounded. Dogs barked in the distance, and there was the drone of a large hover-cart passing near. He was hit with the sudden worry that there might be an early morning delivery. He was beyond remembering what day it was, or which days the milk and essential groceries were delivered. All he could think, in a loop, was, “Please, please, don’t let it be today.” The disgrace of being seen like this, of the permission for  _anybody_  to touch him,  _any stranger_  to add to his punishment, and maybe for one to make an offer to take him from his Master, was devastating.

There wasn’t a single noise or movement from the house.  The lights were out, not even a night-light to comfort him, and the doors were locked. He hadn’t seen Master Jensen since morning, when he had dragged Jared on his knees, by his collar, to the most public part of the driveway, to chain him securely. His green eyes had flashed with fury as he tied the wooden sign around Jared’s neck and placed the cat ‘o nine tails by his side. Through it all Jensen hadn’t spoken a word to him.

Mike and Steve had passed him in their duties. They remained tight-lipped and carefully avoided looking at him. Master Christian had visited, and Jared’s face had burned red with shame when he stopped next to him, reached fingers to the sign as he read the stark words, “BAD PET”, and then dipped to whisper in his ear, “You stupid, stupid slave. Couldn’t learn, could you?” Christian had picked the whip from its hook and twisted the steel-laced strands in his hand, but he hadn’t struck Jared. He considered him for a while instead, and then traced fingers over his cheek. “I’m not going to hit you, pet. Seems to me you’re too far twisted to care, maybe even baiting Jensen for it, huh?”  He had placed the cat back on its hook and walked away, and Jared  _had_  been  _disappointed_. He ached to feel the bright hot pain and the flow of blood that would atone for his sins.

The moon disappeared entirely behind thick cloud and rain fell more heavily, cold drops stinging against his skin. It should have been small relief, something to focus on, but a gathering puddle soaked him with bitter chill, reminding him that his bladder was full, hadn’t been relieved for more than a day. He bit into the ball of his gag in frustration but he couldn’t hold back any longer. The piss streamed from him, formed stinking, steaming, warm currents in the water that pooled around him. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and moaned low and wretched. He remembered how it came to this:

The first time, it could have been considered a genuine mistake, something fueled by his wish to help. Mike and Steve had been struggling to move a heavy cabinet up stairs. He had been returning from the kitchen and had insisted on helping them. Despite their plea for him to remain on his knees, he had stood and heaved the solid wood item to its destination with them. He remembered the glow of exertion and the sense of achievement. For a few minutes he had basked in it. The extent of the cameras that monitored Jensen’s household should have occurred to him, but he hadn’t considered them, not until Steve and Mike screamed and dropped to the floor, clutching at their collars, which delivered a precisely measured shock.

Master Jensen had strung Mike and Steve up and made Jared watch as he gave twenty strikes of the belt to each. When he was finished with them, he strapped Jared down, forced his legs wide, and thrashed Jared’s cock and balls until he wailed and pleaded and promised that he would be good for Jensen.

Three days later, Master Jensen had paddled Jared’s ass until it was cherry red and stinging in the best way, and then reached to snatch the plug from his ass, to knot him hard and fast. Jared could give no adequate excuse for his panicked attempt to scramble away from him, or for the way his flailing hand had struck Jensen’s face.

He had cried like a baby for forgiveness, even before the first strike of willow against the soft flesh of his foot.

***

A bright flash of light tore across the night sky and a rumble started low in the distance. Jared’s eyelashes parted wide around eyes blown black in terror, and a tremble started at the tips of his toes and spread, until the whole of him shook uncontrollably and his teeth chattered around the gag in his mouth. 

Jared struggled frantically, but it only made the metal chains bite into his skin, drawing pearls of blood which washed away in the deluge. Light flashed again and he counted in his head, a thousand and one, a thousand and two, a thousand and three, before the roar of thunder surrounded him. Jared longed for Jensen to rescue him but he knew he wouldn’t. Jared was a  _bad pet_  and he had been put-out. He was small and alone in the hostile night and it felt like he was shattering from the inside.

There seemed to be no time between the fading growl of thunder and the next lightning flash, which illuminated the open driveway he was exposed on. Jared flinched at the devastating CRACK that accompanied it. He was going to die and Jensen would never know how much the safety of his ownership had meant to him. He would only remember that Jared was a bad pet, had been difficult and defied basic rules. Jared hadn’t planned to be bad, but if he could go back and do it all again he would find a way to stop his foolish actions. He would make Jensen love him again. Jared fought back his tears, took a deep breath and waited for his fate.

He gradually became aware of a different, steady light approaching, and the sound of boots splashing on the driveway. A warm, dry hand grasped his shoulder and his chains were unfastened. “Jared, c’mon. Work with us here.” Jared squinted up at Master Christian’s concerned face. He tried to move his feet but they were stiff, the muscles frozen in place.

The next flash of lightning was blinding, and the rolling noise battered his eardrums. He felt Master Christian’s hands grip his shoulders as the alpha crouched low to cover him from the storm, and there were other hands too, reaching to hold him. “Gonna have to carry him,” he heard his Master say.

There was movement and a sensation of weightlessness as he was hefted over Master Jensen’s shoulder. All alphas are stronger than their size suggests and Jensen was in his prime, toned and fit. He ran through the storm to the door of the house bouncing Jared in a fireman’s lift. Jared inhaled his strong scent and padded his fingers into his Master’s tee-shirt. Jensen let him drop as soon as they were in the lobby and Jared hit the tiled floor with bruising force, but there was no time to recover from the jolt,

“Heel,” his Master commanded coolly, and clipped a leash to his collar.

Jared scrambled onto all fours and coaxed his arms and legs to follow his alpha. He couldn’t prevent the tears that still flowed, and he sniffed miserably.

“Any time,” drawled Master Christian, sarcastically.

Jared hurried to voice his gratitude, “Thank you,” but he was cut short by Master Christian’s next remark,

“I was speaking to your Master.”

“Thanks for the help, Chris.” Jensen was curt.

“Yeah, well. I did it for him, not you.” Christian tilted his gaze to Jared, “There’s limits, Jen.”

Jensen tensed. He squared his shoulders and curled his fists, “I’m not sure he has them. Everything is routine to him, and I think it’s fucking obvious that nothing else has worked.”

Christian shook his head, watching the tremors that quaked through Jared’s body and the tears that streamed down his cheeks, “So, maybe it’s time to think differently. Anyway, I’m going back to bed. G’night.”

***

There was a satisfying sting of warmth that returned to Jared’s flesh as he climbed the stairs at his Master’s side, and the raw chain-scrapes throbbed with a soothing rhythmic pulse, but they were temporary comfort. When the bedroom door shut behind them Jared could see the object of his demise, mocking him from the low table where Jensen had placed it, when he had demanded to know, “How many times, Jared?”

Jared closed his eyes, trying to eradicate the memory of it, but when he opened them, the thin blue book that he had stolen from his Master’s library was still there, accusing him. Master Jensen had been right of course. He always was. It had started long before the day he decided to stand in the house to move the cabinet. From the day that Master Jensen had first placed him on his cushion in the library, the neat colourful display and the smell of books was intoxicating. His Master handled books like precious crystal, before becoming immersed in them for hours, writing occasional notes, bookmarking certain pages and quirking a lip or frowning as he consumed the text. The fascination still held when Jared was between his legs warming his cock in his mouth. Then, Jared would feel the minute changes in Jensen’s body as he responded unconsciously to the written words.

Pets didn’t read or write. It was a useful skill for some slaves, but there was no point in a useless show-animal learning such things. Jared had learned a little anyway. He grew up bright and curious with three alpha children, and they shared their enthusiasm and their stories with him. Jared still remembered the first book he had managed to read with glowing pride and faltering voice. It had a hard shiny cover and friendly pictures of the moon and stars. “ _I see the moon and the moon sees me_ …” In early days, when things were difficult and his training painful, he would take that book into his cage and hide it under his embroidered cushion to look at it’s cheerful pictures when he was alone. He realized with a jolt that he had been wrong then too, but he had been young and cute and nobody had seemed to mind.  

Jared nudged closer to his Master but the only response was a firm hand around his collar to drag him to the shower. His gag was removed and he flexed his sore, cracked lips in grateful silence. That Master Jensen took time to set the water to a careful temperature so his skin warmed gradually, was a pleasant surprise and he let himself relax into the flow. His tears dried up and sniffles ceased. Strong hands soaped him efficiently and he was rinsed and towelled dry, in quick time. Jensen wouldn’t acknowledge him and Jared sensed that anything he could say would be unwelcome. Eager to make his Master happy, he rubbed his head into the warmth of his Master’s thigh, looked into his face with wide, pleading eyes and mouthed at the shape of his cock through his trousers. Giving head was usually a sure-fire way to calm his alpha’s temper. Jensen’s foot connected with his chest and he was kicked backwards to sprawl on the floor with a whimper.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t speak to me. _Don’t even look at me._ I’m still angry with you.”  Jensen pointed to a cage in the corner of the room, “You sleep in there. I’ve made other arrangements.” 

Jared reluctantly followed his instruction and ducked his head to crawl inside the squashed space. A soft blanket lined the cage and there was the delicious warmth of a heating pad below it. He kept his gaze low to ensure that he would not meet his Master’s eyes but he couldn’t help the arch of his body into the touch when he felt the drag of soft fingertips over his skin, as a comforter was placed over him and his teddy bear tucked in with him. His alpha spoke again and the tone seemed milder. “Lie down, Sweetie. Sleep.”

Jared curled himself small to fit the space, and sighed. He was exhausted, the bedding was soft and there was familiar safety in being in a barred cage. A hand smoothed his wet hair, “Not getting rid of you, Sweetie. You just …” Master Jensen paused, as if struggling to find the words, “You managed to push all my buttons.” He stopped talking again and Jared could sense him struggling for words, “That book. I’m not sure you even know …” His voice trailed off and then he finished his words with, “I have to think about what is best. We’ll talk about it later.”

The cage door rattled and he heard the snap of a lock. There was the sound of bedding rustling and Jared was suddenly aware of the pungent smell of sex and perfume in the room. In  _their_ room. He snapped his head up to see Genevieve in their Master’s bed. She was sitting up, soft and sweaty, her hair disordered, her cheeks flushed. Her smile was lusty and her eyes sultry, the evidence that she had already been knotted, written in her face and stained over her skin. Jensen responded to her unspoken invitation by stripping his tee shirt off and pacing the last distance to the bed to push her to the mattress and straddle her naked body. She welcomed him in a way that Jared never had, and their Master looked into her face, kissed her lips and grinned at her eagerness.

It was in that moment Jared knew he had never been completely broken before. Not even put-out in the storm, in a puddle of his own piss had he felt so broken. It hurt. More than any whip or knife or brand. It was a pain in the heart that made it difficult to breathe and a flutter in his stomach which made him sick to the very core. It was about losing the only alpha he ever cared for. He didn’t know how to cope with the weight of his emotions, and he wished he’d died in the storm because this torture was worse. There was a keening noise coming from his own throat and Master Jensen turned to glare at him. He bit back the noise, blinked back his tears and turned his back on the scene. He cuddled into his blankets and pretended to doze, trying to block out the panting, guttural sounds of sex, while sharp emotions scratched and sliced at him.

He thought about the way the spines of Jensen’s books felt under his fingertips when he stroked a line along the shelf. The history books were arranged in date order of the eras they represented, rather than the traditional format of alphabet by author. They were in all sizes and thicknesses, ancient text standing alongside modern editions but Jensen liked to feel the paper. He had the digital version in his main system but the paper books rested alluringly on his shelves. Jared wondered if the compulsion to take a book from it’s slot, to read it’s words and admire it’s images, was some form of madness in him. The first time he had done it, he had held an old volume for only minutes, scanning the text and stopping to look at the picture of poppy wreaths in a graveyard. The bright red flowers were stark against the grey background and he longed to know the context. The type was small and the words too long for him to understand. He stared for a while, trying to make sense of a complicated paragraph but he knew his actions were wrong, and when a sudden noise made him jump he hastily replaced it on the shelf.   

Over time he grew more confident, and he learned that Master Jensen rarely checked the camera footage from his library. It was his haven and his slaves rarely went there. Whenever Jared was left alone, he was increasingly drawn to stand by the shelves and lift a book from its place, spell words out in his head, and try to work out their meaning. Sometimes the words were easier than others and he was particularly fond of books with ancient photographs of humans doing extraordinary things, like flying airplanes or carrying guns.

He cuddled his teddy into his chest as he thought about it all, and the tips of his ears reddened. Jensen had trusted Jared and he had betrayed that trust in the most fundamental way.

He tossed and turned in his limited space. He didn’t want to think about the book, but his mind kept returning to it and it avoided focusing on what was happening in Master Jensen’s bed.  He hadn’t meant to steal the book. Four nights earlier, Master Jensen had been brushing his teeth for bed when he remembered his wallet left on the library desk, and sent Jared to fetch it. Jared had found the wallet quickly but light had shone on the spines of the books on one of the upper shelves. He had no explanation why he was so drawn to them. He wanted to touch them, and he somehow found himself standing, walking the line of the shelf pulling at each to look at the covers. He had stopped when he reached one which seemed out of place. It was a children’s book with a shiny hard-cover and child-easy, bold writing. The picture of a bus, animated with a face and wearing a hat made Jared smile, and when he slid it from the shelf he found it to be an old and well-thumbed children’s book. He was turning it in his hand in admiration when he heard Jensen calling. It was the next day before Jared realized he had taken the book with him, abandoned it in the darkness under their bed. He’d pushed it to the back of his mind until that morning, and when Jensen left Jared alone to take a run, Jared had slid his fingers to the hiding place and retrieved it, curious to see it again. The tale of a talking bus and a black human called Rosa Parks who had refused to give up her seat to a white man so engrossed Jared that he didn’t notice his Master’s return.

Master Jensen’s fury had been immediate and powerful. He had snatched the book from his hand, punched Jared to the floor and pinned him down. A glance at the title of the book had only made him angrier, “How do you have this? Can you read this?” he had yelled. His face had been red and his features contorted. He’d looked at his pet with madness in his eyes. The world had stopped turning for Jared, his mouth became dry and his heart jack-rabbited in his chest. Everything was wrong with what he had done and it was time to face the consequences. The truth had tumbled from his lips in a terrified jumble of words.

Jared still couldn’t comprehend the enormity of his own actions or why he had done it. A whimper escaped his mouth. Jensen had put him out and he’d earned it. Now he was replaced in his Master’s bed and he held no purpose in this household. His Master no longer loved him and it was Jared’s own fault. He was desolate.

“I told you to go to sleep, Sweetie.” Master Jensen’s voice was commanding, but there was warmth in it. It was all so confusing.

***

Jared was shaken awake in daylight hours, by Master Jensen, and yanked by his collar to kneel beside the huge double bed that he was used to sharing with him. There was a heavy stench of sex and Jensen’s cock was slick with a coating of cum and cunt juices. Genevieve lay on her back, rosy with exertion, legs splayed, fucked out and dripping with Jensen’s seed. She eyed Jared warily and looked back to their Master with a hint of concern in deep brown eyes, but she was gagged and her delicate hands were loosely tied to the metal frame at the head of the bed. She looked beautiful, but the scene was devastating to Jared and he wanted to push her away, hit and slap her, expel her from their bed. He wanted it to be unreal, nothing but a nightmare, but he knew it wasn’t.

Jared trembled as Jensen spoke low and dangerous against his ear. “Look at her, Sweetie. Slick with it. Running with my cum. She’s got the pedigree of a rodeo pony and she’s just as wild to ride. Begs for my knot and can’t get enough. Wonderful.”

It was the last straw. Jared came apart, emotions ripping into him like jagged shards. There was no restraint or dignity left, just his arms hugging at his Master’s legs, his eyes spilling hot tears and his mouth babbling, begging for forgiveness, whimpering and wailing, asking for one last chance to prove he could be good; he had always been good before, and he didn’t know why he’d behaved so badly, but he didn’t want Jensen to give up on him. He would become whatever his Master wanted him to be, at whatever cost, whatever pain.

Fingers tipped his chin and his master bent to kiss him brutally on the mouth. Jared let his lips drop open, welcomed the probing tongue, barely flinched when sharp teeth bit a vicious hole in his bottom lip and the coppery blood coated his tongue and streamed down his chin. When Jensen finally ceased and pulled away, his pink tongue licked Jared’s blood from his own lips and he smirked nastily at him.  “So beautiful when you’re broken, pet.”

Jared shook uncontrollably as his Master paced around him, his hand rubbing over his chin, deep in thought. When he came to a halt in front of his pet he nodded, as if he had reached a decision, then crouched. “You have permission to look at me and speak now, Jared.”

He was quick to look up and reply, “Yes, Master.”

“My cum is in the wrong place, isn’t it, Sweetie. We both know who belongs on my knot and Genevieve is not that slave, huh?” Master Jensen breathed hot against his ear and twisted one of his nipples harshly in his fingers, making him gasp in surprise.

“I smell of her, and she is drenched in my scent, and it’s driving you as crazy as it’s making me sick, Jared.”

Jared’s brows dipped and his hazel eyes looked into Master Jensen’s face with confusion. The alpha gave a heartless chuckle. “You know it’s supposed to be you on my cock and my cum in your body. You’ve got under my skin, pet, and I don’t want it any other way. I don’t care about the noises our perfect little slut makes, or the way her tits fit perfectly in my mouth. I don’t need her enthusiasm and skill.”

Genevieve squirmed in her bonds and there was an obvious fear in the way that her lips parted and her breath quickened. The alpha turned to tangle a hand into her long hair and hold her still, “I still need her to cook. She makes the best hot-pot I’ve ever tasted.” He leaned in to place a quick kiss on her forehead and continued speaking to Jared, “You have to put it right, Jared.”

Jared shifted his gaze to the book that was abandoned on the low table. He didn’t know what Master Jensen wanted him to do. Jensen twisted his face back to look at him. “Not the book, pet!”

It was all too difficult and more tears gathered at the edge of Jared’s eyes. He didn’t understand what he was being told to do.

“You clean up the mess, Jared. Lick every drop of her scent from my body and suck my cum from her hole, where it doesn’t belong. I want you to swallow every trace.”

There was muffled whining as Genevieve struggled to release her wrists. Jensen rolled his eyes and slapped her face, leaving a reddening handprint on her cheek. “Don’t ever think you’re too good for Jared. It’s a privilege if I let him play with you.”

The alpha turned his attention back to his pet. He narrowed his eyes and produced a thick black permanent marker. “Now, before you start …” He uncapped it and placed the ink-cold nib against the smooth skin of Jared’s chest to write clear, bold letters on his skin, ‘BAD PET’, “I still want to knot your sweet ass but don’t think for a moment that I trust you.”

It was just another wound to pierce Jared’s heart.

***

Strong hands held his head, but he didn’t need encouragement. Jared buried his face in the wiry hair of his Master’s crotch. He purred his contentment at being where he belonged and licked steady stripes from the base of Jensen’s cock to his balls. It was sticky and sweaty and rough and he could smell and taste the hint of ripe woman, but it was overwhelmed by everything that was Jensen. He sucked his balls into his mouth and bathed them in his saliva, before rolling his tongue around them. His Master moaned his approval but Jared knew there was no possibility of him having an erection so soon after knotting Genevieve. This was a demonstration of his Master’s ownership and dominance, and he reveled in it. Jared meticulously groomed every part of his Master’s cock and balls, repeated the action until his tongue was raw with friction and starting to blister. Finally satisfied, Jensen released his hold on Jared’s head, moved his hand to his collar and encouraged him to crawl onto the bed with Genevieve.

“Get on with it. I know you were taught what to do by your former Mistress. According to your records you were excellent,” his Master said impatiently. He sat on the edge of the bed to watch his slaves with a twisted grin. Jared’s head bobbed down to trail a path of soft kisses up the inside of Gen’s thighs. His hair tumbled over her belly and his nose trailed through the dried juices on her hairless cunt. Genevieve squirmed and tried to pull away from Jared’s touch, and he stopped, scrambled back on the damp linen looking first at Genevieve’s heaving chest and then at his Master. Jensen’s lips thinned as he pressed them together, his displeasure palpable. He leaned across to Genevieve and pinned her down with a rough hold, then raised an eyebrow at Jared. “This isn't about her. It’s about you and me. You will do this if you want to make me happy.”

It didn't matter what doubts he had. Jared would walk through the fires of Hell if Jensen commanded it. He hooked his arms around Gen’s slim and silky thighs to spread her out, then dipped his head down and stuck his sore tongue out, to lap a ring around her pussy. He delicately swiped his tongue from the outer edge of her slit to the edges of her thighs, repeating the action to make sure every pungent drip and crust of salty juices was cleaned in its wake. He had never got used to eating pussy and he wrinkled his nose in distaste. He used the pain of his blistered tongue to distract himself from his task. There was a hint of copper in his mouth and he was unsure whether his lip continued to bleed or if the surface of his tongue had ripped.

He nestled in the groove of Gen’s legs to lick firmly between the lips of her cunt. Genevieve groaned needily, and he latched his lips around her clit, sucking insistently, dripping saliva from his mouth until she bucked up, chasing the attention. Their Master pushed her down with a fierce warning, “This isn't about you.”

Jared probed into her slit with care and rolled his tongue around the soft, wet space before pushing further, licking another round motion, eliciting groans from his Master as Genevieve rocked on his tongue.

“It’s not for her to enjoy. Suck it out. I want to hear you guzzling my cum, Sweetie.”

Jared took a deep breath before placing his lips firmly to her open hole and suckling at it, twisting his tongue in time with the suction from his mouth. Trails of spunk mixed with Genevieve’s juices dangled to the back of his throat, and he swallowed with a disgusted shudder. He milked the dripping hole aware of the wet sound of his tongue lapping, the slurp of suction and the gulp he made each time he swallowed. Gen’s motions got faster and she pushed onto his mouth, wriggling eagerly on his tongue.

“No!” Jensen growled angrily at her, and twisted his hand in a bruising grip around her right tit.

Jared felt her go rigid against his mouth, and he could hear her panting heavily, trying to calm down. They both knew that an orgasm would bring her a hefty punishment, especially with the mood that Master Jensen was in. Jared didn't know how long he could last, there was a flare of pain with each lick of his tongue and his stomach roiled with nausea.

“So hot for me. You eat pussy as well as you eat cock, but you can stop now, Jared.” 

He scrambled away so fast, it made him dizzy and he landed on the floor with a thud, making Master Jensen laugh, “Oh, that’s rude to poor Genevieve  _and_  you’re a messy eater. It’s all over your face.” He tapped his thigh to call him to his side, and Jared crawled eagerly for his attention. A wet tissue refreshed his face and a glass of orange juice was pressed to his mouth. The sweet juice stung his lip and burnt his tongue, but he welcomed the way it washed all other tastes from his mouth and his nausea receded.

***

The stark words that shouted his disobedience remained on Jared’s skin and he couldn't bear to look at any of the other slaves when Master Jensen pulled him by his leash, into the kitchen for breakfast. Jensen placed his bowl of kibble on the floor under the table and Genevieve served eggs on toast for the rest of the household. Master Christian sipped at his coffee and made small talk and nobody took any notice of the pet.

Jensen kept him on a short leash. In the library it was fixed to a solid metal ring on the base of the desk. There wasn't a lock, Jared could untie the leather strap at any time, but he understood the message. He must earn Master Jensen’s trust back. He kneeled motionless and in perfect form. His tall and muscular body bowed lithe and graceful and his eyes stayed turned down and part hooded. Jensen worked in silence, lunch was delivered and the dishes retrieved, but there was no treat for a bad pet. At times the rustle of paper and tap of the keypad ceased and Jared felt his Master’s assessing stare, but he didn't speak to Jared.

Shadows lengthened, Jared’s poise didn't waver. When Master Jensen finally logged out of his system and packed up his notes, he yawned and stretched before reaching a hand to Jared’s neck and stroking around the curve of his collar, making him shiver at the unexpected touch. His fingers traced the length of Jared’s leash and unknotted it from the ring. He let the end drop to the floor.

“At ease.”

Jared relaxed fractionally, let his eyelashes flutter wide around his foxy hazel eyes, licked a painful tongue over his swollen lips and faithfully looked up, into the incredible green stare of his Master. He swallowed, knowing how close he had come to being disowned, to never seeing him again.

“Do you really have to revert to the manipulative show-behavior? You are cute in your poses, but it isn’t attractive when used to deceive.” 

Jared dipped his head and a tear glistened bright in his eye, “Am I too old? Did I go wrong? I don’t know what to do, Master.”

Jensen’s fingers chucked him under his chin, and there was a look of puzzled amusement on Jensen’s face, “No. You can’t  _go wrong_ , Jared. Whatever gave you that idea?” He chuckled and shook his head, “No, you carry on with all the good things you were already doing, and make sure not to break the rules. Prove to me you can be good and I won’t need to put you out again.”

“How?” Jared needed to know.

“It will take time and your honesty. That is all.” Jensen took a few strides and stood on the tips of his toes to look in a dark, cabinet in the corner of the room. “And, you should know that hiding behind show-correct manner is a form of deception. You are hiding yourself from me.” He swatted dust off a colorful book that flexed thin in his hand, “Aha, I wondered if this would still be here,” he commented, and then proceeded to sit on a large, squashy easy chair that stood in the very corner of his library. “Come here,” he instructed, crooking his finger at his pet.

Jared stretched and crawled with feline grace to kneel neatly by his legs.

“No, sit comfortably, or we can’t begin. Better still, come up and sit on my lap.”

Jared looked unsure and Jensen reached a hand to his collar and tugged, “Up!”

He relaxed into his Master’s hold and the sensation was wonderful as they snuggled together in the big chair. Jared wrapped his arms around Jensen’s waist and held on tight. It felt so good he didn't know if he would ever be able to let go. Warm arms surrounded him and he leaned into the firm chest, relishing the care, the security, the forgiveness of his Master’s embrace. He tried not to stare too curiously at the old children’s book in Jensen’s hand but his gaze kept returning to it.

“This was my uncle’s ‘reading chair’. When we were little he would cuddle us here before bedtime and read us stories,” Jensen explained, and then laughed, “You’re a lot bigger than we were, but that’s okay.”  He reached a hand to smooth Jared’s hair and then he opened the old book and tilted it so that Jared could see the bold words and bright illustrations. “You learned to read on your own didn't you? It wasn't in your data.”

Jared looked stricken, and his fingers balled into Jensen’s shirt.

“Be truthful, Jared.”

“My family, the children, showed me when we were small, but when we got older they told me it wasn't allowed. I don’t read well, not big books.” He bit his lower lip and there was the tang of fresh blood as his wound reopened. “I didn't mean any harm by it. M’sorry, Master.”

“I know you are, and I don’t mind if you want to read.”

Jared’s surprise was obvious.

“You think that being able to read makes me angry? No, Jared. What really hurts is that you even think that. You didn’t trust me. You didn’t tell me what you wanted and you deceived me. You are supposed to talk to me. I own you, and you cannot pick and choose what you reveal to me. When you were quiet, I supposed that you had nothing to say, but there is so much more going on in that freaky head of yours. All of that is mine. Do you get that? Because I thought we had already had this conversation.”

Jared’s fingers tightened and twisted in the piece of shirt he was clutching. “I think so,” he answered cautiously, before adding a quiet protest, “I do trust you.”

“When you were put-out, did you trust that I would take you back?”

Jared couldn’t hold his Master’s gaze.

“I’m looking for honesty, Sweetie.”

Jared was unable to voice his answer. He shook his head.

Jensen kissed his cheek with affection. “But I did come to get you, Jared,” He reached a manicured finger to trace the bold letters that spelled, ‘bad pet’ on Jared’s chest. “Words are powerful, Jared, and they can take you to wonderful places, teach you amazing things, but they can also be dangerous. They can hurt.” Jensen’s fingernail scraped a red line as it traced the ‘t’ of pet.  

His Master lifted his hand away from Jared’s chest and pointed in the direction of his bookshelves, “There are reasons why many books are banned for humans, and it is a crime for me to let you read those words. I do not want you to be taken from me, and I’m not prepared to have my library seized and destroyed because of your dishonesty. For now we will read together. If you can be good for me, I will find some approved books, just for you. Maybe I can teach you to read harder words. Would you like that?”

Jared stilled on Jensen’s lap and for a moment his breath wouldn't come. That his actions may bear consequences for Jensen had never occurred to him, and he didn't know what to make of it all. He couldn't believe the generous offer and he closed his eyes, ready to cry again. There was so little left of him to break. To raise his hopes in this one small comfort, only take it away again, would be cruel. He managed to answer, but the “Yes, Master,” sounded false and wooden.

Jensen stroked Jared’s shoulder and down his right arm, grounding him. “It’s not a trick, Jared. It’s an incentive. I don’t like punishing you. Most of the time I don’t even think it works. This way, there is a reward if you can be perfect for me.”

Jared’s eyes shone bright with excitement, and he didn't care that his lip hurt as it curled into a huge smile. He nodded enthusiastically. There weren't words for his happiness. He burrowed his head into the stubble-rough skin under his Master’s chin and kissed at his neck.

“There, that’s better.” Jensen patted Jared’s knee, “Now read me this story, Sweetie.”

Jared didn’t care about his bleeding lip or his raw tongue. He opened his mouth and began:

“In the great green room

There was a telephone

And a red balloon

And a picture of the cow jumping over the moon …”

~END~


End file.
